


Wrong Turn

by ZaneAiden



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Community: homesmut, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 16:39:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaneAiden/pseuds/ZaneAiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vriska runs into sober Gamzee</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrong Turn

The dark and labyrinthian meteor held many secrets, even beyond those the trolls wanted to find. Hidden away, deep within layers and layers of hallways and vacant rooms were curiosities that nobody really bothered to find. That is, of course, with the exception of one certain cerulean cyborg. Every night, without fail, the lingering curiosity in her gut drove her out of her bed and to the edges of what was left of the world.

If there had been someone out that night, they would not have seen much. Maybe, if they were observant, they would catch a brief glimpse of her eyes, searching for things nobody else could notice. If they were especially sharp, they might manage to see a flashing grin when she succeeded. Her movements would have been a blur in the darkness as she quickly made her way through the tangle of cables and machinery. However, when she paused, her face was illuminated in the dull green light of a husktop.

“Interesting. Veeeeeeeery interesting. So the release valves for the ecto-genetic splicing chambers lead directly to those useless rooms that people make piles of stuff in?” Her lips pulled back to reveal long, sharpened canines. “It would be a shame if there were, say, some accident that happened to cause a system flood.” She chuckled. While she had no intention of doing anything to that degree just yet, it was useful to have a scheme on stand-by in case there was ever a need to get even with someone. That was another reason she loved exploring this place: it helped with her schemes. If she ever needed to, she could act as a puppet master and play everyone like the suckers they were. Of course, it came with a bit of a price. Her eyes darted to the clock in the corner of the husktop screen and a groan passed her lips. In three hours she would have to be up, and carrying out the operation with little or no sleep wasn't the best idea. She made a decision to explore for just a little bit more before heading back up to bed.

She checked her husktop and looked at the map of the meteor she’d devised. By overlaying partial maps from every system she could access, she’d combined them into one semi-cohesive picture of the station. There were still plenty of holes in it, but it was extremely useful in making her way around. She decided to check out one of the biggest holes in her vision, fairly close to the heart of the station, and see what she could find out. The only apparent way in or out was through the air ducts, and thus far she hadn’t been very intent on using them as a means of getting around. But, looking at it, it wasn’t really that far; only a few dozen yards and she’d be in that mystery area. Just a quick look to sate her curiosity, for she had been oh so curious for a while now.

The husk top closed with a less than gentle click, and she quickly scooped it into her bag and dashed over to the closest entry point. After a few minutes of maneuvering, she reached it and pried off the grate covering it which, surprisingly, seemed to be a bit loosened. She took off her bag and crawled into the cramped space, thinking nothing of it. It was even darker in there than it was in the rest of the station, but it still wasn’t that much of a problem. She knew exactly where to go to find what she wanted. After a few minutes of clanging through the vents, she came upon the room she had intended to find. After mentally high fiving herself, she dropped down. The last thing she expected was to land on an uncomfortable yet springy pile beneath her. A cacophony of honks rang out across the room.

“What the fuck?” she rubbed the back of her neck and looked around. To her own surprise and complete and utter confusion, she’d landed in a pile of cheap clown horns sold commonly at proprietors of indigo-blood merchandise. She picked herself up, brushed off her shoulders and clambered off of the pile. “Huh. I guess that could be useful at some point? What the hell has that moron been up t-“ she froze as her eyes fell upon the walls. There were messages scrawled all over. Messy green lettering, alternating capital and lower case letters that spelled mostly gibberish, but where it wasn’t gibberish it sent chills down her spine: “DeAd”, “KiLl ThEm”, “NoNoNONONO”, “crush them all”, “KILL THEM”, “no”, “KILL THEM ALL”, “honk”, “KILL THEM MOTHERFUCKIN ALL”. The breath caught in her throat as his quirk changed and the green sopor gave way to a deep shade of purple. Her heart dropped into her stomach as she realized it was blood. His blood. She wasn’t curious anymore. Her face fell and she could feel panic welling up inside of her. She turned to run, only to hit a brick wall.

“And what the motherfuck is the wicked little spider-bitch doing down here?” Gamzee whispered quietly, looking down at her. She was on the ground before she realized he’d hit him. His eyes, normally so mellow and half-closed, were now blazing with pure unadulterated wrath burning into her soul. She was speechless. He gritted his teeth and snarled.

“I asked you a MOTHERFUCKIN’ QUESTION!” He yelled with ferocity she’d never imagined could come from his tall and lanky figure. She’d barely had time to get her bearings before a vicious kick sent her rolling.

“Fuck! I was just looking around for something interesting!” She rolled away from him before he could strike again and grabbed at her ribs. Judging from what she was feeling, they were badly bruised, but probably not broken. She felt the ground drop away as a powerful kick connected with her again, and she hit the wall, dizzy. She tried to move before he could reach her again, but her head was spinning. She felt herself being lifted onto her feet, and then off them again by an iron grip on her neck. There was a chuckle from the source of the stinking, sopor-laced breath nearby.

“Well I guess you all up in motherfuckin found it.” The gentleness of his voice would have scared her if she weren’t already terrified. All she could do was shrink away from him and grab at his arm. He let out a sudden, harsh laugh before whispering again, “Well today must just be so motherfuckin blessed. I free my own fuckin self from the pan-rotting sopor shit, and a pretty little eight-eyed bitch just walks all up into my piece of the messiah’s promise. How many miracles can one day hold?” he chuckled again.

“Come on Gamzee, just let me go.” She said, but the crack in her voice was at odds with the bravado of her words.

“Well I can’t just motherfuckin’ do that now can I?” spit flew in her face as he barked at her, “You’ll just go and get your blab on to all your motherfuckin friends,” A dreamy smile creeped on his face. “And I ain’t gonna deal with that!”

“P-please,” her voice cracked again and her heart started to race. His smile only grew.

“How about you all up in motherfuckin beg for it then.” A spark of something much more frightening than rage glinted in his eye.

“What?”

“I said BEG MOTHERFUCKER!” He pulled his arm back, and her eyes shot open again.

“Please! Please please please please let me go, please! I promise! I’ll do anything!” She was holding back tears at this point.

“Just please let me go let me live let me live letmeli-“

Tears steaked down her face and she was interrupted by his face slamming into hers, and his long hot tongue forcing its way down her throat. There was nowhere to pull away to, and she was locked into place by his body pressing up against hers. Her blood froze and the taste of bile graced the back of her throat as she struggled weakly against the psychotic clown, weakened by terror, shock, and disgust. He tasted of sugary soda and blood. After a minute he pulled away from her.

“Has anybody ever told you how fuckin cute you are when you beg?” His expression was softer, but still threatening.

“Fuck you!” she shouted, and she spat at him. The repetitive concussive strikes to her face told her that that was not, indeed, the correct thing to stay. Still, it felt good to say it.

“Since you’re clearly TOO MOTHERFUCKIN’ STUPID TO GET IT, I’ll lay it out real nice and simple for you. YOU ARE MY BITCH RIGHT NOW, and I can do anything I fuckin’ choose to with your sorry stinkin’ pirate ass. You’re already makin’ a couple of piss fuckin’ poor decisions, keep that shit up, and I WILL HAVE TO PAINT THE MOTHERFUCKIN’ WALLS WITH YOUR THINKPAN!” his fist dented the metal next to her head to emphasize his point. “But ain’t no need for it to all up in motherfuckin end with heads busted, long as I can get from you what I been meaning to take.” His cooing words made her stomach turn.

“And what exactly is that?” she asked, gulping. His face split with a toothy grin. Wordlessly he grabbed a fistful of hair and forced her to her knees. She realized that it hadn’t been one of his clubs digging into her when she had been pinned up against the wall. With the other hand he took down the circus tent in his pants and exposed his erect member. She tried to twist away, but cried out as his iron grip held firm.

“Gamzee, please…” She looked at him, a sobbing mess on the floor. His only reply was a simple command.

“Suck.”

**Author's Note:**

> Self critique time: poorly written at certain points, not much a fan of the dialogue as some of it seems OOC, I realize Gamzee's quirk is a bit off
> 
> I might fix these at some point in the future. Additional critique is encouraged.
> 
> Also, title suggestions are also welcome.
> 
> \--
> 
> EDIT: Fixed some of the more awkward writing as well as a lot of Gamzee's dialogue.


End file.
